


Somewhere Between the Lines

by djchika



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-05-07 04:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19201732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djchika/pseuds/djchika
Summary: The last time he’d seen Michael was at their high school reunion. He’d been foolish. A stupid kid wishing that after years of near misses they’d finally found their perfect time. Michael saying he wanted to be friends was like a hammer coming crashing down and pounding all his hopes to dust. To add salt to an already festering wound, Michael told him he washappyto hear about Alex’s rumored engagement.Pretending it was a form of closure to have the person you'd been pining over since high school congratulate you on your fictitious engagement and not correct him only worked if you never had to see him again.-aka the Rock Star AU with notes of mutual pining, a down beat of angst, and the irresistible bop of idiot boys in love





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to @insidious-intent, @malexhq and @cocktail-party-in-an-abattoir on tumblr because they’re the best kind of enablers

"Jesus, Kyle, I am begging you. Let it go.”  

Alex swore he loved Kyle dearly — Kyle was his best friend and his brother and the person he’d call if for any reason Alex had to go in hiding from the US government — but Kyle was also about ten minutes from getting accidentally pushed into the luggage bay and getting locked in there.  

With a disgusted snort, Kyle threw  _Alex’s_  tablet on the seat between them. "All I'm saying is that I haven't slept with a groupie since our first tour. I think I deserve a little bit of recognition."  

The tablet bounced on the cushion, teetering on the edge before Alex saved it. His own face peered up at him from the display, a scowling Rosa and Liz superimposed on either side. The words SISTER SCANDAL stamped across the bottom in letters as bold as the lie the whole article obviously was.   

 

 

This time, it was Alex who had to snort in disgust. Sometimes he really fucking hated the media. "I've come out professionally like seven times. I go to every GLAAD event. What is it about 'I'm gay' that's hard to grasp?"  

"International rock stars aren't  _gay_ Alex. They just sleep around." The sarcasm in Rosa's voice was clear even from the front of the bus where she and Maria were staying far away from Kyle's breakdown.  

Alex laughed wryly. “Wish I could say the hypothetical notches on my bedpost say otherwise, but I’ve had limited firsthand experience.”  

“They wrote about you and Ian being Rockstar Royalty when they thought you were getting married,” Liz pointed out helpfully.  

“They also said they broke up cause Alex had been cheating on him with Taylor Swift,” Rosa pointed out  _unhelpfully_.  

Liz was an angel and helping him deal with the Kyle situation. The other two were filthy traitors.   

“Imagine if you’d actually taken her to the reunion,” Maria mused with a cackle. “She and Guerin could have done a duet. He’s got that angsty cowboy, dirty-sex-at-the-back-of-a-pick-up-truck act down.”  

Alex forced a laugh even as a pang, sharp and familiar bloomed in his chest. Thinking about his secret, complicated, non-relationship with Michael Guerin evoked emotions that was best dealt with through song-writing. The day before they were set to embark on a tour wasn’t the time for that mess. 

With practiced ease, Alex pushed it all away. Besides, it had been a year since he’d last seen Michael and it was probably going to be another year or two before they saw each other again. 

"Can we please go back to talking about  _me_?" Kyle whined loudly. 

Anyone else would have interpreted it as Kyle showcasing typical only child qualities, but seeing as Kyle was the only one of them who knew about him and Michael, Alex took it as the out it was meant to be. 

“Instead of waiting for them to make something up just create a scandal of your own. Bring on a Penny Lane.”  

“And have Cam will kill me if it messes with her militant tour schedule for us?” Kyle asked, referring to their highly capable, intensely intimidating road manager. “No, it has to be someone already part of the tour. Rosa's my sister. Liz is my sister's sister. Maria—"   

"—has standards," Maria yelled.  

"I'm not sleeping with you," Alex deadpanned when Kyle turned to him. 

“That’s just close-minded thinking right there. I would rock your world.” Kyle said, giving Alex a smarmy wink. “You know, we don’t  _actually_ have to sleep together.” 

Only through decades of getting talked into bad decisions did Alex know to shut that idea down fast. “I’m not pretending to be sleeping with you either.”  

“You did with Ian,” Kyle pouted. 

“No. I  _was_  dating Ian,” Alex clarified. “We just broke up and didn’t announce it to the world.” 

Liz, proving once again that she was an angel, knew exactly what to say to distract Kyle from his plan to fake date Alex. "You might not even have to do anything. There's this entire blog dedicated to the theory that you and Alex are in a secret relationship. I sent you the link.” 

He grunted in surprise when Kyle grabbed the tablet from him landing almost halfway on Alex's lap. Kyle then proceeded to make himself comfortable, using Alex’s thigh as a pillow. Nope. There was definitely no surprise why people on the internet thought they were a couple. 

"Childhood friends to sweethearts. Inseparable from playground to concert stage," Kyle read off the blog. His eyebrows shot up to his forehead as he scrolled. "How do they know we borrow each other’s clothes? That’s fucking creepy.”  

“You mean that you  _steal_  my clothes?” Alex corrected. Kyle, of course, ignored him going back to scrolling through the site again. 

Assured that Kyle would be engrossed in the site for the next hour, Alex pulled his sunglasses over his eyes. He needed a nap or he really was going to strangle Kyle. They’d had approximately eight hours of sleep in the past week, living purely on caffeine, adrenaline and a passion for music that thankfully hadn’t left them even after ten years in the business. At that moment though, what little energy he had stored was down to his toes.  

It was just his luck that sleep barely seized him when Rosa's voice filled the bus.   

"Fresh meat incoming!"   

He brought up a hand to rub at his eyes, forgetting he had on sunglasses and sent them flying at Kyle's head.  

“Ow! What the fuck.”  

Alex ignored Kyle's protests, shoving him off and getting to his feet. Liz had joined Rosa and Maria. All three of them peering out the bus window like neighborhood gossips. They scrambled away just as the door opened and for a moment Alex wondered if it was possible he was fast asleep and dreaming.  

That was the only explanation for Michael Guerin standing there in his beat-up boots and threadbare jacket. Sporting the same wild, brown-blonde curls that Alex could still remember running his fingers through.  

All too familiar eyes locked with his and Alex was seventeen, sitting confused in his toolshed. Nineteen and waking up alone. Twenty-five and forcing himself to walk away. Twenty-seven and getting asked by a different man if Alex had ever truly loved him back. 

Whatever drew him to Michael was still there, rooted so deeply that the pull in his gut felt like tides rising, swelling towards an unreachable moon. 

Shit. That would make a good song. He should remember to write that down. 

The bus erupted into an exchange of hellos as Michael walked up the steps. For the first time, Alex realized that Max and Isobel Evans were with him as well.   

"It's great seeing you! What are you all doing here?" He heard Liz ask, apparently the only one of them with any manners.   

"Reporter, photographer, last minute front act replacement." Isobel pointed at Max, herself, and Michael in succession.  

"Mimi said last night Michael was replacing Wyatt. She didn’t mention you were the reporter.” Liz beamed at Max who looked like he was having a spiritual experience just being in her presence.  

Alex on the other hand was definitely hallucinating. Possibly brought on by sleep-deprivation. Michael wasn’t merely on their tour bus on some improbable visit. Michael was joining them on tour. 

"Did you know about this?" he hissed at Kyle who looked hurt at the accusation.   

"Of course not, man. I would have warned you. I crashed when you did last night." Kyle stepped in front of him and lay his hands on Alex's shoulders. "I just want you to know, that as your oldest friend — and secret lover according to that blog — I reserve the right to punch him if you're not going to do it."   

“If you bring  _any_ of it up I am going to shave off your beard in your sleep,” Alex threatened, ignoring Kyle’s dramatic gasp in favor of moving towards the group. The leather bracelet he put on that morning scraped against the skittering pulse on the inside of his wrist.  

The last time he’d seen Michael was at their high school reunion. He’d been foolish. A stupid kid wishing that after years of near misses they’d finally found their perfect time. Michael saying he wanted to be friends was like a hammer coming crashing down and pounding all his hopes to dust. To add salt to an already festering wound, Michael told him he was  _happy_ to hear about Alex’s rumored engagement. 

Pretending it was a form of closure to have the person you'd been pining over since high school congratulate you on your fictitious engagement and not correct him only worked if you never had to see him again.  

Then again, a Manes Man never ran away from a fight.   

He spared a moment to wonder how his eldest brother would feel about using their family creed to bolster his confidence before facing his ex… whatever Michael was. Harlan would probably join their father in his grave.   

As he drew closer, hazel eyes swept up Alex’s body sending warmth crawling up his spine. Michael’s bad boy swagger had sharpened with age, less of a costume he put on and more like it had settled in his bones. It didn’t mean that Alex couldn’t see right through it, didn’t notice the slight shift in Michael’s stance, the way his fingers clenched inside his pockets.  

“Guerin. Hey, Isobel. Max.”  

Max seemed completely unaware of Alex’s presence still basking in Liz’s attention. Isobel grimaced and gave Alex an apologetic smile. "Excuse me while I try to save my brother from making a fool of himself."   

Without anyone else to act as a buffer, silence grew thick between them. The air crackled, charged and brimming with history.  

“Nice digs,” Michael finally said, looking around at their new double decker tour bus.   

“It’s just for the tour. You should have seen the clunker we were riding during the first one.”  

Jesus. They might as well have been strangers talking about the weather.  

“A lot’s changed.” Michael said quietly.  

Alex bit his lip, physically stopping himself from the words that wanted to spill off his tongue.  _Not really. Not how I feel about you. Not how you look at me and my soul catches on fire._ He took a breath, shaking off the dramatic inner monologue. There was a reason he and Rosa wrote the lyrics to their songs.   

"I'm getting the weirdest sense of déjà vu," Kyle's obnoxiously cheerful voice broke the tension. He swung an arm over Alex's shoulder, his smile all teeth.  

The scowl on Michael's face made it clear he was no happier to be in Kyle's presence than Kyle was to be in his. "Valenti."  

"Guerin," Kyle said in the same clipped tone. He looked over at the Evans twins then back at Michael. “Do the three of you ever go anywhere alone?”  

"Do the two of you?"   

"We're not dating. It’s just a rumor."   

"Good to know Alex still has taste," Michael said with a sharp smile.  

Kyle’s face hardened and Alex had a vision of Cam yelling at him for not curbing Kyle’s stupider impulses  — like getting into a fist fight a day before the tour. He nudged Kyle's arm off him gently. "I think Maria needs you."   

"No, she doesn't."   

"She really does."  

"Nah, she's busy chatting up Isobel."  

"Jesus Christ! Valenti, he wants you to go away.” Michael’s face was a perfect blend of annoyance and frustration. 

“No, he doesn’t.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

" _Un momento por favor_ ," Kyle told Michael with exaggerated politeness then pulled Alex away. They weren't far enough that Michael wouldn't hear them so Kyle's eyebrows did the yelling for him. They were raised at a height that meant he was asking what the fuck Alex was doing. It was sweet, but Alex was a grown man. He was old enough to make his own mistakes. Or repeat his mistakes. The frown he aimed at Kyle told him exactly that.  

Kyle glared at him for another moment before he threw up his hands in surrender. He turned back to Michael and made an 'I'm watching you' gesture before walking away.  

"Oh my God!" Alex exclaimed. Someday he really was going to shave off Kyle's beard in his sleep. "Ignore him."  

"I don't care about Valenti. You didn’t know I was coming did you?" 

Alex shook his head. “No. I missed the big announcement.” 

“If you don’t want—” Michael’s stared at him, eyes stripped of his was looking at him with an indescribable look on his face. Raw and vulnerable. Like he held Michael's whole heart in his hands.  

Alex inhaled, sharper than he intended. It was these stupid looks that always got him in trouble. Always assuming they meant more than they did. Michael had made it clear what  _he_  wanted. Whatever Alex was seeing was his own wishful thinking.  

The breath caught in his chest escaped him, making his voice unsteady. "We're not kids anymore. What I want doesn’t matter. This doesn't have to be awkward. We're fine." 

Michael didn't look convinced, but before he could say anything the bus door slammed open.  

Cameron stormed in and leveled them all with a look. "This bus leaves at 16:00 hours. Get your crap together because we're not coming back for anything or anyone." 

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," Maria drawled, giving her a wink. 

Kyle goggled at Alex and Alex rolled his eyes, leaning in to the more lighthearted exchange than the one he was having with Michael. Anyone else and Cam would have bitten their head off, but the fact that Cam just ignored Maria was one of the many reasons there was an ongoing bet that they were hooking up. 

Cam pointed at Alex. "Sadie wants a conference call before we leave. She’ll call your phone.” She turned to the newcomers. "I'll show you where to load your gear."  

Alex didn’t catch Michael’s eyes as he turned to leave with Cam. The moment the bus door closed behind the four of them, he braced himself against whatever solid object was behind him. The space underneath his rib cage both hollowed out and too full at the same time.  

Someday Alex was going to die. On that day he was going to ask whatever higher power was in charge what the fuck he did to deserve having his heart repeatedly ripped out by Michael Guerin.  

-  

“Evans is doing what?” 

“You can’t call him Evans. There’s two of them. It’s confusing.” 

“Fine.  _Max_ is doing what?”   

"The— maga—zne—”” Sadie's voice crackled through the speaker of Alex's phone. Wherever she was she wasn't getting the best reception and it was getting on everyone's nerves. 

Kyle grimaced as the static intensified. “Alex had this really awesome decoder ring when we were ten. I think we need it for this call.” 

“ _F_ — _CK_. G— me a se— cond."  

There was loud rustling and the sound of several doors slamming followed by a cow mooing.  A couple more curses filtered through the speakers punctuated by a loud exhale. "Can you hear me now?"  

"What the hell, Sadie. Are you holding that press conference at a farm?" Maria asked with a laugh.  

"And people think the publicist life is so glamorous," Sadie said, dryly. "Anyway, let me brief you on this before I get accosted by a goose. Originally, they just wanted a couple of photos of the band on the road plus an article to celebrate your tenth year. They're pitching more. A series of online interviews chronicling your rise to fame starting from when you were babies in Roswell."  

Rosa scowled. "A series of interviews by someone who has intimate knowledge about our lives. I'm sure this isn't going to blow up in our faces."   

"That's why I'm running this by you," Sadie said. "They  _will_ use the fact that Max grew up with you as an angle, but you're guaranteed approval before anything goes online."  

"They agreed to this?" Alex asked. It wasn't unheard of for them to have a list of topics they won't discuss with press, but approval of the piece was above and beyond.  

"Yes. Max insisted. If they post anything without your go ahead, I have free reign to have them booted."  

Alex looked around at his bandmates, uncertainty written on all their faces except for Liz.  

"I trust Max," she said with a shrug.  

"Of course you do," Rosa sneered. "Just because he's worshipped the ground you walk on since forever doesn't mean he's not going to throw you under the metaphorical bus."  

"Screw you, Rosa. You think I'm going to risk the band over that?"  

"This isn't one of those things where we vote and majority wins," Alex interrupted before it could explode into a full on fight. "If even one of us isn't comfortable, we all say no."   

"I don't think he's as great as Liz  _obviously_ thinks he is," Kyle teased trying to lighten the mood, "but we grew up with these guys. They're not monsters." 

Kyle looked over at Alex, a question in his eyes. Alex nodded. The unease churning inside him had nothing to do with Max.  

Maria nodded as well and then it was down to Rosa.  

"I'm serious," Alex said. "If you're not okay with this we say no."  

Rosa crossed her arms and scowled at the table for a second before saying, "Fine. But I'm sticking to my usual list of no-gos. No talking about my time in rehab."  

"No talking about our parents," Kyle added which was seconded by Liz with a hearty nod.  

"Email it to me," Sadie ordered. "I'll talk to you all later. This pig is looking at me funny." 

Liz grabbed his phone and handed it to Alex. “Definitely no talking about my bad fashion choices.” 

“It was the early aughts _everyone_ was making bad fashion choices.” 

“Alex’s emo phase.” 

“Kyle’s preppy jock phase.” 

“I’m so glad I didn’t know you guys in Middle School,” Maria cringed, “Oh God, no talking about my bad dating choices.” 

“Didn’t you go to a dance with Wyatt?” 

“Gross. Don’t even joke about that, Valenti.” 

Alex let the familiar noise of his family squabbling wrap around him. He didn’t need a list, not when there was only one person on it, and he knew Max would throw  _himself_ under a bus before he'd expose Michael like that. 

If there was anything he needed to worry about, it was exposing his own heart. 

- 

Forty-eight hours later and Alex had yet to lay eyes on Michael again. 

The shock of adrenaline had only buoyed him so far before exhaustion drowned him completely. He hadn’t been conscious long enough to check, but he was pretty sure it was the same for the rest of the band. 

None of them could afford any more lost sleep. Not when the day they had before the concert was crammed with interviews – including one with Max – while the day of the concert itself was carefully calibrated to include more sleep, prep and then a pick-up rehearsal before sound check. 

By the end of it all, they assumed they were at minimum an hour behind schedule.  

None of them should have doubted Cam’s ability to bend time to her will. They weren’t just on time. They were running  _early_. 

That was how thirty minutes before gates open, Alex was wandering the backstage halls and found Michael puking into a trash can. 

“Guerin, what the hell?” He rushed to Michael’s side, gently gathering wayward curls and keeping them off Michael’s face. Alex mimicked the soothing sounds his mom made when he was sick. His other hand, smoothed up and down Michael’s back as miserable shudders wracked his body. 

With a last retch, Michael groaned, sliding to the floor and thunking his head against the back of the wall. “Give me a sec,” he said through gritted teeth. 

Alex dropped down next to him and fished his phone from his pocket. He’d barely finished typing when Michael grabbed his hand. 

“What are you doing?” 

It took him a beat to answer, his senses suddenly laser focused on Michael’s hand was on his. The weight of it resting on the curve of Alex’s wrist, warm and a real and _right_. His hand itched to lace their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Aside from the fact that Michael’s hand was kind of gross all clammy with sweat. 

“I’m getting a doctor or a nurse or someone to check on you,” Alex said, extracting his hand and showing him the message. 

Michael shook his head. “Don’t think they have a cure for nerves. Unless the Doc’s name is Jose or Jack.” 

The instinct to nag Michael over his drinking was quashed by the implication of his confession. “This is your first concert,” Alex said softly.  

“First time in front of a crowd larger than a bar. Or a school gym.” 

Fuck. He remembered his first concert. Could almost feel the crush of air in his chest, ragged breaths escaping him as he tried and failed to draw air into his lungs. It had been the most terrifying night of his life.  

Michael gave a short laugh, scrubbing his palms over his face. “Probably shouldn’t have lied when Mimi asked if I’d done anything big. You know how they said you should fake it ‘til you make it? Faked it. Don’t think I’m gonna make it, Alex.” 

“You will,” Alex assured him. He remembered the fear, but he also remembered the exhilaration of being on stage, his guitar and microphone the only thing between him and a throng of people. Nothing mattered but the music and the four people on stage with him. 

“How do you know I’m not going to mess this up like everything else?” 

The plaintive tone in Michael’s voice sliced through his chest. He had to clasp his hands between his knees to keep himself from reaching out and smoothing the worry from Michael’s brow. “Remember what you told me? When you play, everything goes quiet. Music dulls the chaos. That’s all there is to it. Whether we’re in my tool shed or on stage.” 

“Just you and me and the music,” Michael said in a voice so soft Alex had to strain to hear it. 

“Something like that.” 

The smile that Michael gave him set his stomach fluttering and Alex allowed himself a second to bask in it before getting to his feet and offering Michael a hand. 

“Now, come on so you can change.” 

“Eau de Nerves not doing it for you?” Michael asked, as Alex pulled him up. 

“We can pitch that as your signature scent.” 

“Gotta get through this first.” 

Their arms brushed together as they walked, the silence between them almost companionable. Being around Michael had always been easy. Maybe it was possible for Alex to have him in his life without wanting more. 

“You’ll do fine, Guerin.” 

- 

Alex was wrong. Michael was  _phenomenal_. 

Every person in the audience was in love with him by the time his set ended. 

He understood. If anyone knew how easy it was to fall in love with Michael Guerin, it was Alex Manes. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The BIGGEST thank you to Ess Cee ([InsidiousIntent](https://insidious-intent.tumblr.com/)) An actual angel. Truly.
> 
> And of course to the Sanders Auto and Junkyard fam for letting me use them in here. ;)

[Screenshot of an Instagram post from user **beka-i-never** of a photo of Michael playing on stage. 

> caption: **beka-i-never** Who is he, who hurt him and can I be the one to take care of him? 
> 
> reply: **violettavalery** It says Wyatt Long on the website 
> 
> reply: **dancinbutterfly** Nah they replaced that guy cause he was caught dealing or something. I think his name is Michael Guerin. 
> 
> reply: **violettavalery** Whoever he is, I'll take on the world with him any day. *water emoji*] 

- 

_[Screenshot of an article from Rolling Stone, a partial photo of Alex performing on stage is seen ]_  

 

> **Mad Max on the Music Road: Crashdown’s Cosmic Connection Tour**  
>  _The band is celebrating ten years in the business and they’re taking us along for the ride_
> 
> by Max Evans
> 
> * * *
> 
> Hours before the gates open, hundreds of fans have already flocked to the Houston’s biggest concert stadium. A sea of color amidst the grey concrete. Some bearing signs, others simply wearing the band’s merchandise. All of them beaming at the opportunity to see their favorites perform live. 
> 
> When you come from a small town, it’s weird when someone you know becomes so famous that people from around the world know their names. 
> 
> It’s even weirder when there are five of them. 
> 
> Alex Manes, Kyle Valenti, Liz Ortecho, Rosa Ortecho and Maria DeLuca make up the band, _Crashdown_. I’ve known Alex, Kyle, Rosa, and Liz since I was eight. Maria transferred to Roswell High our freshman year, but with how close the group is, no one would ever guess she wasn’t there from day one. Or rather day two. 
> 
> Before _Crashdown_ , the band started as an acoustic do with just Alex and Kyle calling themselves, _Cabin in the Woods_. 
> 
> “Oh man, Cabin in the Woods made us sound like total serial killers. There was no way we could continue with that name.” Liz laughs at the memory. Her easy smile and sparkling eyes light up the cramped space and similarly fond smiles are shared by the rest of the band. It’s exactly this sort of camaraderie that helped the band stick together for a decade. 
> 
> “We started when we were thirteen? Fourteen?” Alex asks Kyle who corrects that they were actually twelve. “Then Maria practically declared herself Alex’s duet partner the first time she heard us play. Liz and Rosa joined soon after. I don’t think anyone even recognizes our early stuff. The first album was pretty raw.” 
> 
> Alex clearly hasn’t let fame go to his head. Their first album, _When Home is a Person,_ was certified platinum a month after its release. _Good to You_ , the only single to come out of that album, was the top of every chart that year. 
> 
> “I remember the day Alex first played it for us. That boy was _inspired_. We didn’t know it was going to become as popular as it did, but we knew it was special.” Maria gives Alex a mysterious smile that suggests an inside joke. 
> 
> I attempt to get them to elaborate, but a scuffle between Alex and Kyle ensues and the two of them proceed to have a silent conversation composed entirely of facial expressions. It’s a fan favorite quirk between the two best friends. 
> 
> “Nope,” Kyle finally says. The others follow his lead and smile at me politely. An obvious show of them closing ranks. Another reason the band has come this far and remained intact. It’s always going to be them against the world. 
> 
> **_Click for more >>_ **
> 
> _[Mad Max on the Music Road is a series featuring your favorite bands on tour. Subscribe to get notified on when the next issue is available.]_  

- 

“Max Max on the Music Road?” Isobel swiped away from the article and stared at Max with all the judgment only a sister could muster. “Really?” 

The mischievous twinkle in her eyes softened the bite of her words. Michael grinned. He wasn’t about to let her have all the fun. He gave Max a pat on the shoulder in the most overused parody of commiseration. 

"From writing the next Great American Novel to _Mad Max on the Music Road_. How the mighty hath fallen.” 

“I didn’t come up with the title!” Max said, practically pouting. “My editor is a fan of alliteration.” 

Michael cracked up as he ducked away from the peanut Max flicked at him. They were at the hotel bar, enjoying a spread of greasy food and downing ridiculously overpriced drinks to celebrate the first of Max’s articles and the fact that Michael didn’t make a complete fool of himself in front of thousands of people. 

He gulped down the glass of champagne Isobel insisted they get after the first couple rounds. The cool liquid sent a shiver through him and making him feel like he was the one filling up with bubbles. 

Playing for that many people was an unparalleled experience, a natural high that was made even better by the fact that Alex had been there. Right at that moment, he didn’t care that it was only because Michael had crashed into his life again. Having Alex watch him was a fucking dream come true. 

“Isn’t it enough that his name is Grant Green?” Isobel asked with a snort, breaking into his thoughts. “Maybe your next series can be about Michael’s new fans. _Going Gaga Over Guerin._ ” 

Michael raised an eyebrow at Max and then without a word, they both shot a barrage of bar nuts at Isobel. Considering they were more than a little drunk it was surprising that most of the projectiles hit their mark. 

“Stop! You're going to get us in trouble,” Isobel shrieked, raising her hands to defend herself from the onslaught. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re the only ones here,” Michael stupidly pointed out. Stupidly because Isobel narrowed her eyes at him like a bobcat given a clear view of a squirrel. Unfortunately for him, he was used to being the squirrel to Isobel’s meddling bobcat. 

“So spill. Why are we hiding out here instead of making fun of the highly inebriated celebrities in our vicinity?” 

Michael chomped on a chicken wing and gave her a sauce covered, shit-eating grin. “Can’t I just celebrate tonight with my favorite people in the world?” 

She made a disgusted face at him, but refused to be deterred. “Uh-huh. Nothing to do with a certain dark-haired musician? Who, my sources say, is in the running to be People magazine’s sexiest man alive?” 

“It has _absolutely_ nothing to do with that,” Michael lied cheerfully at the same time that Max said, “Isobel! Stop reading my work emails.” 

Michael flagged the bartender. He exchanged his empty champagne flute for an old-fashioned beer and immediately guzzled half of it. This time, the liquid hit his stomach like a bag of rocks. 

The problem with the ongoing saga between him and Alex was that even though Max and Isobel didn’t know the whole deal, they knew enough to give him shit about it. 

At least Max was slightly more subtle and was just smirking at him. Isobel, on the other hand, was going full dramatic, looking at him through her eyelashes and lowering her voice in what she apparently thought was a good imitation of Alex. “Guerin, nice to see you. Haven’t seen you since we hooked up that one time in Burque which neither of us is talking about because we’re both emotionally constipated rock stars.” 

“Good impression, Iz. You should think about doing stand-up,” Michael said, refusing to rise to the bait. He seriously considered spilling ketchup on Isobel’s shirt to distract her. It would be worth her not talking to him for a couple of months. 

Seeming to read Michael’s intent, Max grabbed the bottle of ketchup and slid it farther away. “Hey, did you know Liz is planning to get her doctorate when they go on break after the tour?” 

Changing the subject was a better plan than his ketchup murder. Too bad it didn’t work. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Isobel waved a dismissive hand in Max’s direction. “You and Saint Liz will have beautiful, medium-height babies. I want to talk about our brother’s juicer romantic drama.” 

Michael gave her a fond smile, despite his annoyance. She’d insisted they call him their brother back when they were still kids at the home, convinced it would ensure they’d all be adopted together and had never shaken the habit. The admittedly affection-deprived part of him was man enough to admit he loved them more for it. 

What he didn’t appreciate was the I’ll-wait-all-night-if-I-have-to glare Isobel was giving him. 

“Well?” 

“No drama. It’s all in the past. Alex and I are both grownups,” he said, mimicking what Alex said on the bus. 

 _This doesn’t have to be awkward._  

Sure. Michael didn’t have to be in love with Alex, yet there he was. Someone should say ‘you don’t have to become a millionaire’. Maybe he’d magically get a couple million. 

Isobel rolled her eyes. “You’re right. Drama is Max pining over the same girl for ten years and practically blackmailing his editor to get this assignment. You pining over the same guy for ten years, sleeping with him once, seeing him at our reunion thinking he’s engaged _then_ finding out that he broke it off, isn’t drama. That's content worthy of a Kardashian.” 

“Glad you find my life entertaining,” Michael drawled. 

“You never want to talk about Alex--” 

“--and we’re not going to force you--” Max interrupted, a reminder that was as much for Isobel as it was for Michael.   

Isobel rolled her eyes at Max, then continued, “--but there’s obviously something still there. You shouldn’t let one bad hook up stop you.” 

Michael wasn’t sure if it was because of Max’s considerate protectiveness, or the softness Isobel only allowed them to see, or if he was simply tired of keeping everything bottled up and the flow of tequila, champagne and beer had loosened the cork. A rush of words spilled out of Michael in one breath. “We didn’t sleep together once. Alex and I were together for four months.” 

He didn't even get to enjoy the look of shock on Isobel's face because a serious one flickered on Max's face and he knew he was in for a Big Brother Max Evans lecture. 

Michael raised a hand to hopefully stop the deluge. “I didn’t tell you because Alex wasn’t out yet. Then it was over and it didn’t make sense to bring it up again.” 

“You don’t _have_ to tell us anything,” Max said, but the look he was giving Michael made it clear that he was beating himself up for not knowing every little detail that went on in their lives. If there was anyone who was a pro at self-flagellation, it was Max Evans. 

Isobel scoffed. “Um, yes, he does. Four _months_? That’s practically a relationship for you.” 

“Doesn’t matter. I fucked that up and now it’s over.” 

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” 

“Before he left for the first tour, I snuck out in the middle of the night and didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t even try to get in touch again.” Michael laugh was lined with bitter self-recrimination. ”I love him.” He stared straight at Max and Isobel as he said it. There were a hundred things he was ashamed of, but loving Alex wasn’t one of them. “Even then I knew I always will, but the thought of watching him leave just hurt. I didn’t want loving him to hurt. So I left.” 

There was a beat of silence then Max said, “I’m not going to pretend that wasn’t a dick move, but he didn’t kick you out of the bus the moment he saw you. That has to mean something.” 

“It means he’s a better man than I am.” 

“Stop it. You made a mistake. That doesn’t mean you can’t make things right,” Isobel said, unfailingly loyal. Michael didn’t deserve either of them. 

“I did. We saw each other at the reunion, got closure and that was that.” He motioned for the bartender who served them another round. “Are we done talking about this now?” 

“One last question,” Isobel leaned in, a wicked smile on her lips. “Was he good in bed?” 

Max gagged. “Please don’t answer that. I don’t want to know about either of your sex lives.” 

“I’m not asking for the gory details. I’m happy with a general rating.” 

Michael laughed both at Isobel’s impish grin and the horrified look on Max’s face. "Sorry, Iz. You’ll have to settle with me fucking up and telling.” 

Isobel’s eyes went wide before she said in a rushed whisper, “Your chance to unfuck it up might be walking up to you right now as we speak.” 

Michael didn’t need the deer-caught-in-headlights look on her face or the neutral one Max was trying (and failing) to adopt to know that Alex was there. He _sensed_ Alex’s presence without turning around. It allowed him the split second he needed to push everything warring inside him into the darkest corner of his chest. 

“Guerin.” 

“Alex,” Michael said, turning to face him. All it took was a moment under Alex’s warm gaze for drunk butterflies to wobble around in his stomach, shitting glitter everywhere. His lips curled into his signature smirk in an attempt to hide said butterflies. At least, he hoped he did a better job of it than Max’ seemingly constipated expression. He leaned against the bar, ignoring the fluttering of his stomach and Max’s poop face. “Care to join us?” 

Through his tequilachampagnebeer goggles, Michael zoomed in on Alex’s spectacular smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling adorably, and felt his butterflies sigh sappily in unison. 

He was so gone on the man, it was disgusting. 

“No, I was just— You guys weren’t at the party and I wanted to say congratulations. You were amazing.” Alex’s smile turned proud. Proud of _him_. There were a handful of people in his life who believed in him with an unerring faith. The fact that Alex was one of them still shook him to his core. 

For a breath, they both stared at each other, caught in an undertow Michael still struggled to understand, and then, because he was as much of a little shit as Michael was, Alex smirked and said, “Especially for someone who was faking it.” 

Chuckling low, Michael casually leaned right into Alex’s space. “I had a good teacher.” 

“I don’t think I ever taught you how to fake it that well.” 

“Nope, never had to fake it with you.” Immediately after saying it, Michael flushed and wished desperately to die on the spot. He used to be smooth. He could swear he used to be smooth. On either side of him, he could feel Max and Isobel practically vibrating with suppressed laughter. 

If it wasn’t for the fondness on Alex’s face, Michael would have started digging his grave. 

“Like I said, I just wanted to find you and say congratulations." 

“Thanks. You too,” Michael added lamely because it was Michael Guerin loser happy hour or something. 

As soon as Alex was gone, Isobel snorted into her drink and Max buried his gigantic face in his Mack Truck hands. The previous tension of their conversation was replaced by the age old hilarity of witnessing your sibling’s humiliation. 

“That was painful, man. _Painful_.” 

Isobel was still cackling. “If he’s still into you after that, I say marry him and never let him go.” 

Refusing to acknowledge the sudden flush in his cheeks, Michael signaled at the bartender for another round. If he was going to be subjected to an evening of this, he was going to make sure they were all good and wasted. 

- 

Michael learned quickly that spending time in a tour bus was far from glamorous. In fact, it was like living in a fucking commune. He’d found a pair of leggings, various tops, and _two_ bras in places where they shouldn’t be. It was a good thing the bus was a double decker with most of Crashdown sleeping upstairs or he’d probably find more. 

He pulled a third bra from the far corner of his bunk. Dammit. If there were going to be other people’s underwear on his bed, it better be ones he’d removed personally. He stuffed his latest find into the makeshift laundry bag he’d started. 

“How are you okay with this?” Michael asked Isobel. She was lying down on the bunk opposite his, reading on her phone, uncharacteristically apathetic to the chaos around them. 

“I get it. They spend most of their lives needing to look put together for everyone else. It’s the only place they can let go. Also? I’ve seen where you live, Michael. You can’t judge.” 

Michael huffed at her, offended. He was messy, but he was, like, organized messy. Liz, Maria and Rosa were absolute slobs. 

Rosa walked past them and Michael thrust the bag at her with a quick explanation of what it was. 

“Nice! Thanks, I was looking for this,” she said, happily pulling out a neon bra and slinging it over her shoulder. 

"Have someone throw that in the laundry at least!” 

Alex raised his eyebrows at him as he descended the stairs. He looked around as if noting the comparatively cleaner bus. “Maria said you were nesting.” 

“Nesting is a nice word for it,” Isobel said, without looking up. Michael would throw one of his shirts at her, but he’d just finished folding them. 

“Admittedly nesting wasn’t the word she used,” Alex said, sitting on the edge of Isobel’s bed. “More like we’ve pushed him to his limit and Guerin was having a cleaning breakdown.” 

“Oooh, I should livestream this for your fans,” Isobel said, pointing her phone at him.  

Michael shook his head in disbelief. “It is unbelievable that of all people, the two of you are giving me shit. Isobel, your wardrobe practically has its own card catalog and I’ve seen your military corners, Alex.” 

The moment the words left his mouth, Michael expected awkwardness to blanket them, for Alex to walk away at the reference to their past, but instead Alex outright laughed, eyes crinkling. 

“Guilty as charged. That might be the only thing my dad taught me that actually stuck.” 

Michael covered up his relief with a smug smile. “Next time I’m dumping all the dirty clothes on both your beds.” 

“Try it and I’m posting your most embarrassing photos on Instagram,” Isobel threatened back, tapping on her phone then showing it to Michael. On it was a photo she’d taken of a polaroid. The colors were washed out from the lighting, but you could clearly make out a scowling Michael trapped in what looked like a bulbous green potato. A costume his mom had been forced to make from what their drama teacher had envisioned an alien would look like. 

“Isobel!” Michael groaned, but it was too late, she’d already swung the phone around so Alex could see the picture. 

“Oh my god. Is that you during our class play?” Alex asked, his smile widening as he looked from the photo to Michael. 

It was suddenly hard to breathe when Alex was staring at him like that. 

Michael cleared his throat. “Fortunately the only proof of that embarrassing ordeal.” 

“Nah, you were cute.” 

The casual way Alex said it, caught Michael off-guard. He could feel Isobel’s eyes on him, but there was little he could do about the blush crawling up his cheeks. 

He ignored the amusement in her eyes and joked, “You should have seen me when I was younger. Smelled like trouble, looked like a cabbage patch.” 

Alex’s answering laugh warmed every bone in Michael’s body. He grinned, content for now to bask in that sound.

- 

 

[Screenshot of an Instagram post from @isobelevans of two photos of Isobel, Michael and Max at prom. 

> caption: **isobelevans** #TBT to the worst prom dates ever @maxevans @michaelguerin
> 
> reply: **Nix** are you dating @michaelguerin
> 
> reply: **isobelevans** @Nix Eeew. Gross. No He’s my brother.

Liked by alexmanes, lizortecho and 2,735 others.] 

- 

By their fifth venue, Michael pre-performance projectile vomiting had lessened into simple stomach-churning nausea. It didn’t mean he wasn’t practically shaking as he got off stage after his set, adrenaline rushing through him like a dozen jackrabbits on crack. 

His damn jackrabbits screeched to a halt as Alex’s smile greeted him as Michael walked off stage. 

The thing with the whole “friends” business was it required Michael not want to jump Alex every chance he got. Which was proving difficult when Alex walked around in his favorite leather jacket, a red shirt and jeans so tight they were practically painted on. 

It was fucking unfair for anyone to look that good. 

Oblivious to the stroke he was inducing, Alex handed Michael a water bottle. “Good set.”  

Michael cracked open the bottle and gulped it down. At least he could quench one kind of thirst. “Thanks,” he said, after he’d finished most of it. “I’m just grateful I haven’t fallen off the stage yet.”  

Alex laughed softly, a sound that was far better than any piece of music Michael could ever create. “Based on the stuff Rosa’s been reading off twitter I bet someone will be there to catch you.”  

Michael bit the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out the flirtatious line that popped into his head. Bad Guerin. Sinfully hot or not, hanging out with Alex the past week had made it clear to Michael that he wanted Alex in his life. Even if it meant never being allowed to admit how he felt. 

A lady with a headset that seemed far too large for her head motioned at Alex, saving Michael.  

“Our turn,” Alex said, his smile turning giddy.  

Michael swallowed thickly. Joy looked fucking good on Alex Manes.  

The band bounded onto the darkened stage, the riff from Kyle’s guitar greeted by echoing cheers.   

Alex’s voice resonated loud and clear as they opened their set, an energetic number that had the crowd singing along with them. Like most of their songs, Alex and Maria traded vocals, their voices in perfect harmony. Maria was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that, but Alex – Alex was _magnetic_.   

It didn’t matter how many times he’d seen Alex on stage, Michael couldn’t take his eyes off him.  

Not that it was any surprise. With Alex he could never make himself look away. Not really.  

“ _Damn_ ,” Isobel commented when she sidled up to him. “Since you’re adamant you don’t want to sleep with him, can I?”  

“I think you’re missing a vital piece of anatomy,” Michael yelled over the music.

“Maybe he’ll let me watch. He _is_ a performer.”  

He wrinkled his nose, because, no. That was not an image he wanted loaded into his brain. “There’s something wrong with you.”  

“Something’s wrong with _you_. He’s a literal rock star. You could be like Beyonce and Jay-Z.”  

“As long as I get to be Beyonce,” Michael snarked just as the song ended. The crowd was screaming at a decibel that made him worry about the structural integrity of the arena.  

Alex grinned from the stage, dark eyes shining, sweat running down the line of his throat. He  was clearly in his element, a livewire bathed in the red and blue and purple of the sweeping lights. If Michael wasn’t already seven circles deep in a hell of his own making, he’d be cursing his existence. Or Alex for torturing him. 

“You’re drooling,” Isobel whispered, before sashaying away. Presumably to do the job she had been brought on to do instead of annoying Michael. _Sisters,_  man.  

He focused his attention back on Alex just as the notes of the next song started. A deceptively upbeat tune that he knew by heart just like every song Alex had ever sang.  

As Alex’s voice filled the stadium, the hole in Michael’s chest cracked wider, the lyrics of the song piercing through his soul with every word. 

- 

[Screenshot of a tweet from @insidiouscrashdown the text says:

> alex manes, singing: why don’t you love me?  
> 
> me: 

attached is a gif of a woman gesturing with the caption: ‘Bitch, I'm right here’]] 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: djchika  
> twitter: djchika_


End file.
